One Step Short
by Funara
Summary: Hiei muses on Kurama's loss to Karasu and what it means...sort of. Hiei x Kurama towards the end.


**One Step Short**

By Funara

Disclaimer: It's sad to say, but none of the characters mentioned in this fic belong to me. You all know who they belong to, so I'm not going to even bother saying it.

Note: This is an odd sort of reflection-written-in-POV-style fic. Originally, when I thought it up, it was supposed to be something to make me feel better about losing a tournament…but it's morphed into something else. Read, review, and tell me what you think.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

True sleep is a gift. I doubt whether many view it as such; for them, dreamless, thoughtless sleep comes easily. I thought so as well until the implant of my Jagan.

The Jagan, although implanted in my body, is not truly a part of any of my systems. It functions on its own, reasons on its own. Even when the rest of me is weak from energy loss, the Jagan is able to maintain itself. Even after summoning the Kokuryuuha, as I have just done.

The rest of my body sleeps, eyes closed, unconscious of what is happening nearby. But the Jagan remains alert, unable to note sensory data without my other two eyes, but able still to keep a portion of my mind awake. For what purpose? None at all.

Idly, I wonder how Kuwabara and Yuusuke are faring with their matches. If they have lost for us—but it is no longer in my hands. I won my match, tying the score at one all and balancing your loss to Karasu.

Inwardly, I smirk at the thought. None of us had expected you to lose the match, especially not because of a technicality. As you staggered off the arena, supported by Yuusuke, I saw, beneath the blood and the exhaustion, the perfectionist in you snarling at the turn of events. Perhaps I was the only one callous enough to see it.

Or perhaps I was the only one used to feeling such emotion that I perceived it.

I have never valued sensitivity, nor any other non-utilitarian sentiment. The only feelings that are of any use to me are those that can goad and spur and aid me in battle—rage, hatred, the desire for vengeance. They can be of use when one has spent everything one has, and the enemy remains standing. And it's almost ironic that I know this is because I have lost so many times, energy gone, nothing left to depend on.

But you are different. You are used to winning, used to getting your way. It is in the way you fight, the way you lead your enemy on with minimal effort, and then, without warning, finish him. When the occasion arises that you must summon up extra energy, you expect that this additional force will win you the match. And it usually does. Except for this time. Neither Shuuichi's skills nor the youko's cleverness won you anything.

Question yourself, reevaluate yourself, after this. Because, after all, losing through a technicality, no matter what others may say, is one of the most shameful ways to do so. Negligence is a fool's mistake.

My eyes open slowly as my body finally musters enough ki to summon consciousness. Strangely, I have been transferred from the place where I fell, and I can feel tight bandages wound around my wounds and something soft beneath me. My glance tilts upwards, and I see your face, green eyes hard, expression taut, and I know that you have dragged me over to rest with you, and the knowledge, on some level, encourages me.

You told me once, I remember, that we were alike, that we were equals. I snorted and replied in the negative, asked you to name a few examples. Even then, despite the attitude that I normally presented, I believed that you were better, superior. I refused your advances, pushed you away as you did not fulfill my request, but instead leaned in closer to kiss me. I hate working with those who are not my equal.

With one match, one blood-quickening, fury-provoking match, that has changed. And as I grasp the ragged fabric of your tunic to pull you down, even as I push myself up, as I press our mouths close together, lying there in your lap, I realize that I am grateful that you lost.

One step short of winning—that's how close you were. But the matter will inevitably become simplified by those who don't care for details, and in the end, you did lose.

One step short of winning, one step short of fulfillment. For now, that is where we both lie.

—owari—

Note: What did you think? Not the best thing I've written, and both Hiei and Kurama act a little strange, I think. But review, and let me know, ne? Meanwhile, I've really got to stop writing so much serious stuff and write something funny. All the stilted dialogue's killing me.


End file.
